


Callidus Virtute

by RavenClawRavensandSlytherinSnakes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Black Family (Harry Potter) - Freeform, Boggarts, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Dumbledore's Army, Eventual Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Fluff and Angst, Godparent Sirius Black, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, Isolation, Patronus, Sirius Black Lives, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slytherin, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherins Being Slytherins, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenClawRavensandSlytherinSnakes/pseuds/RavenClawRavensandSlytherinSnakes
Summary: Inspired by the Movie Quote from Luna Lovegood:"Well if I were You-Know-Who, I'd want you to feel cut off from everyone else. Because if it's just you alone you're not as much of a threat."Voldemort takes it one step further - using his power through the board of governors to transfer him into Slytherin. Dumbledore seizes the opportunity, using Harry to gain more information. Cut off from his friends, living in the den of snakes and the new DADA Professor, Dolores Umbridge - Harry is more alone than ever.But Voldemort forgets - Harry is a parselmouth. He can survive the den of snakes.“Professor Dumbledore believes that many students within Slytherin would remain neutral if given the chance.” She continued. “He would like you to present that option to them, and at the very least collect information of death eater activity.”“What - spy on Slytherin?” His tea felt cold in his hands. “Leave Gryffindor?"





	1. Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> Just a plot bunny that's turned into something more - using my creative writing class to plan this out!

"Budge up, Ron!"  
"Ow, Ginny-stop-"  
"Oh honestly, just because-"  
"Pass it over, Fred-"  
"SHHH! They've started!"

Everyone fell silent. Ron and Ginny, who had been fighting to get closer to the extendable ears, froze. Harry moved in closer to Hermione to give Ginny as much room as he could, cramped together as they were. Fred and George adjusted the fleshy ears, lifting it higher so that the whispers turned into an audible but hushed conversation.

"Is the door locked?"

"Yes, yes I've checked on the kids- all in bed-"

Mrs.Weasley answered the deep voice of Kingsley. She had come to check their bedrooms just moments before. Ginny and Hermione had made a mad dash upstairs while Ron and Harry had dived into their own beds with their shoes still on. Luckily, she had only glanced briefly in before scuttling off, the midnight appearance of Dumbledore and the call for the rest of the Order had made her more careless than usual.

Not that Harry was complaining.

"Professor, what's going on?"

It was a young voice this time that asked, one Harry recognized to be Nymphadora Tonks'. She sounded sluggish, yet alert as if she'd been dragged out of bed.

"Severus has returned - and he's not in good shape."

Dumbledore’s voice was quiet and grave.

"He'll live - and Voldemort believes him to be loyal but he will be under strict watch. But he will not be able to do as much as I hoped."

"What about the new recruits - the information-"

"Severus is in a precarious situation, I have personally asked him not to relay information that puts him in danger," There was a rising protest, and then silence as if Dumbledore had made a gesture. There was a rustle of papers, and someone fidgeted causing their seat to give a long, mournful creak. A few seconds passed. Then Dumbledore continued.

"As for new recruits, I believe that-"

The sound became muffled and distorted, before cutting off sharply-

"Crookshanks!"

"Hermione, your damned cat-

"Shoo! Crookshanks no!"

By the time Ginny had sprinted down the stairs and coaxed the ear out of the cats grasp - damaged as it was - the conversation had moved on.

"Dumbledore, I don't know how I feel about this, after last summer-"

"Molly I believe that this is for the best. He will not be alone and Severus cannot risk it."

"They're just children, Dumbledore-"

"Precisely!"

"The Ministry is overstepping themselves, is there nothing that can be done?"

It was Mr Weasley this time and he sounded more worried than Harry had ever known him to be.

"Arthur, it's an opportunity we cannot afford to miss."

There was silence and more hushed whispers that Harry did not catch. Crookshanks had bitten off a large section of the ear, and the sound had become muted and damaged. The sight of the doorknob turning, however, gave them enough of a warning. The order meeting, impromptu as it was, was over. Hurriedly, Fred and George pulled up the fleshy string, tucking away the extendable ears. Faintly, they heard voices move into the main hallway, a clear sign that any important topics had been discussed.

They all glanced at each other.

Finally, Fred spoke up.

"What do you reckon they meant?"

"Snape - spying for the Order?"

Harry snorted. "Wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't."

"Oh, honestly Harry!" Hermione gave him a reproachful look. "Remember first year? You thought he'd tried to kill you and he ended up saving your life!"

"Can't blame Harry, Hermione," Ginny interjected. "Snape doesn't exactly look friendly does he?"

A thought occurred to Harry then.

"Oh- I'd forgotten, Dumbledore said he vouched for Snape in the pensieve!" He remembered. "He must've been a spy then, and now that Voldemort's back, Dumbledore must've sent him back too."

"But what about that whole "new recruits" thing?" Asked George, shaking his head at the idea that Snape worked as a spy.

"They weren't just talking about Snape, " Fred confirmed. "If it wasn't for your damn cat, Hermione-"

Hermione bristled defensively but before she could answer they heard a creak on the stairs.

Fred and George apparated away with a crack, and Ginny and Hermione slipped out to their own room.

Harry held his breath, as the creak sounded again. He and Ron scrambled into the bed, and he quickly turned with his back towards the door so his face wouldn't be seen.

With his eyes slammed shut, the light behind them brightened as their own door creaked open and Mrs.Weasley checked in. A pause. The door clicked shut again.

Harry meant to talk to Ron about everything- the startling revelation of Snape being a spy for the Order, the new recruits, and the intersection of the Ministry - but his head wouldn't seem to lift from his pillow and before he had realized he had fallen asleep.

The night remained silent after that, with the only noise the occasional snore from Ron and the soft hooting of the owls.

\----------------------------------------------------

"Harry - could I have a word?" Mr. Weasley looked nervous. His hands were clasped firmly in front of him and his gaze darted away from Harry's own.

"I - yeah, of course," Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, whose own eyes seemed to be asking the same question. Harry stepped out of the entrance, where everyone had gathered in preparation to leave for the Hogwarts Express. Fred and George, chastised by Mrs. Weasley for attempting to levitate their trunks down the stairs and in doing so knocking Ginny down two flights, were now huddled in a corner, talking under their breath. Ginny herself looked perfectly fine and was sitting on top of her trunk, chatting with Hermione. Ron was leaning against the wall, his eyes not quite awake.

Harry followed Mr. Weasley out into the hall.

They tiptoed past the heavy curtains into the living room which had been mostly cleaned after the summer. While odd bits of dust floated around still, Harry felt quite accomplished with the place. With Mrs.Weasley at the helm, they had cleared out most of the nasty creatures that had infested the place. It was now inhabitable. They stopped at the end of the hall, near the now empty kitchen.

Mr. Weasley turned to him.

"Harry, the others didn't want me to mention anything and they must not know," here he looked strangely fierce. Harry hadn't seen Mr. Weasley look quite as serious in some time. "But Dumbledore agrees and he thinks it would be best for this news to come through me."

"Mr. Weasley, what is it?" Harry broke into the pause.

"There has been a development at the Ministry, we believe Voldemort has more influence than previously assumed." They both paused with Harry looking on at Mr.Weasley in confusion.

"This year many things will be different, Harry." Mr. Weasley's gaze seemed to be attempting to communicate something he could not put into words. "In You-Know-Who's previous rise, everyone was scared and unaware- he was brought to power through his connections and spread hatred and lies into the minds of the youth."

"Alright," said Harry.

"He got his most prized death eaters. Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, Avery, Crabbe, Nott, Goyle - through Hogwarts."

"and Dumbledore thinks he's going to do that again." guessed Harry.

"Precisely." Mr.Weasley looked hesitant now. "And with the ministry's involvement, Dumbledore cannot act too directly with those students, if they were ever unwilling to join You-Know-You."

Harry watched Mr. Weasley fidget with his fingers before clasping them closed.

"With the ministry's influence and the pressure brought on by the board of governors -" he was cut off abruptly.

"Arthur! Arthur, where have you -" Mrs. Weasley bustled in, looking harassed, but stopped at the sight of Harry. She seemed to glare at Arthur reproachingly and bustled around, shepherding Harry out into the dining room where he was swept away in preparation for Kings Cross.

All towards the station, even Sirius’ company as a dog could not distract him from the almost pitying looks members of the Order were giving him.

______

The train ride had been a strange mix of old and new. Perhaps the train itself hadn’t changed, but they had. Ron and Hermione, with their new responsibilities as a prefect, had left early for their meetings. It was strange going on the Hogwarts express without Ron, but he had managed to find a compartment with Ginny, Neville and a slightly strange Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood.

Luna Lovegood was a strange mix too - her gaze was at once vacant and focused. In one moment she looked as if she was in her own world, reading her magazine upside down, and then in another, it felt as if she knew exactly who you were.

But he could always count on Neville for normalcy. His grandmother had given him a new plant for his birthday and in true Neville fashion, it excreted green puss. After which Cho Chang, had entered the compartment and just as quickly left it. The pretty Ravenclaw girl had seemed taken aback and Harry had wondered about her seeking him out. Had she wanted to talk about Cedric? His ears grew hotter at the thought and an uncomfortable sinking sensation in his stomach emerged whenever he entertained the idea.

It was more than an hour into the train journey that Ron and Hermione had re-entered the compartment, but with Neville, Luna and Ginny still there he couldn't let them know about Mr.Weasley attempting to tell him what seemed to be confidential information. Until he had been caught by Mrs. Weasley. Ron and Hermione seemed to agree with him, exchanging meaningful looks every 10 minutes or so. Of course, the news that Malfoy was a prefect and his concerning hint about Sirius had chased all thought of Mr. Weasley's cryptic message from his mind. And then leaving the train station he had been distracted even further by the giant form of Hagrid being replaced by the distinct haircut of Professor Grubbly-Plank. It wasn't until they neared the carriages that Harry got the opportunity to break slightly away from Ginny, Neville, and Luna and fill them in about Mr.Weasley.

“Oh Harry, we wanted to talk to you too,” Hermione started her eyebrows furrowed. “There was a note to be passed on to you- McGonagall wants to see you after the feast.”

Ron looked at Harry and shook his head slightly.

“You can't have gotten into trouble before you’ve even reached Hogwarts - I hope it's not Quidditch related -”

“Ron, it's quite unlikely to be, McGonagall’s part of the order too, you know and -”

“Yeah..” Harry muttered as they reached the carriages, his attention distracted by the skeletal horses at the front of them. Hermione and Ron didn't seem to have noticed.

“Don’t worry,” chimed a high voice from inside the carriages. “I see them too. You’re just as sane as I am.”

Looking at Luna who had gone back to reading ‘The Quibbler’ upside down, Harry wasn't too reassured.  
\----------------------

The Great Hall was like a warm hug from an old friend. The warmth of the fire, scattered around the hall, the floating lights and the great big tables were all viewed with a familiar sort of fondness by Harry. But, just as the train, they had an edge of darkness - of new found knowledge and the loss of innocence. The students didn't chatter as loudly. There were empty spaces in every house table, from students who had not returned to a single space on the Hufflepuff table that would forever be empty.

Harry noticed with slight bitterness, the way that students glanced at him and away quickly, putting their heads together and chatting, their eyes returning to the back of his heads like magnets.

Harry tore his gaze away and followed Ron and Hermione to his own table. Luna had drifted away to the Ravenclaw table, and Ginny was called off by some fellow fourth years. Harry’s gaze drifted away from Nearly Headless Nick and Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, to the staff table. Hagrid was still not there. McGonagall's place was empty too and -

“Who’s that?” Hermione asked sharply, her eyes honing in on the toad-like face of that woman from the ministry. Her mouth was pinched into an expression Aunt Petunia would've found hard to replicate.

“She works for Fudge!” Harry frowned.

“We’re going to have that pink monstrosity as our defence professor?” Ron looked revolted

“Ron - what she wears isn’t the problem. “ Hermione muttered, as Professor McGonagall entered the Hall with the newest set of first years. As she lead them up to the sorting hat, Harry felt as if she was avoiding his gaze - the entire Gryffindor table it seemed like. Why had she wanted to speak to him?

The hall quieted down as the sorting hat sang its normal welcoming song.

Only, it wasn’t normal at all.

Rather than describing each trait of the house, it instead strung together a story of house unity and an almost grim warning.

“Cheerful, isn't it?” Ron mumbled to him. Harry held back a snort.

“The hat feels it necessary to give warning whenever it feels- “started Nearly Headless Nick in what was sure to be a rather long lecture on the history of the sorting hat when McGonagall interrupted with the line of first years waiting to be sorted.

After the last first year had stumbled off to their new house, Dumbledore stood and gave his short but zany start of term speech.

This was the first time Harry had seen Dumbledore since his hearing, and whatever bitterness he had previously felt about being ignored was tamed slightly at the sight of him. At least one thing would never change.

“Finally!” he heard Ron groan as the tables in the great hall filled to the brim with dishes of Roast, vegetables and flagons of pumpkin juice.

To his right, he heard Hermione ask Nearly Headless Nick about the sorting hat, but his brain swimming with worries of Hagrid, Dumbledore and the notion that Malfoy may know about Sirius, focused on his dinner. When - inevitable- Ron and Hermione bickered (Ron had made some insensitive comment about Nearly Headless Nick’s status as a ghost) Harry made a half-hearted attempt to reconcile them before giving it up as a lost cause.

His gaze kept trying to catch that of McGonagall's but Harry found that - like Dumbledore - she seemed to be studiously ignoring him. He had never seen anyone so focused on their plate before. The pink woman, Umbridge, on the other hand, seemed to be staring at him. Whenever he glanced over she smiled slightly in painful mocking sort of way, and then turn.

When finally the plates of now empty food vanished and Dumbledore stood, Harry ’s otherwise feeling of pleasant drowsiness had given way to a watched paranoia. With his focus on McGonagall and attempting to catch her eye and his concern over Hagrid’s missing form, Harry completely missed the majority of Dumbledore’s Welcome SPeech. He only tuned back in when a high pitched “Hem, Hem!” broke the otherwise silent hall.

Umbridge seemed to have stood and even Dumbledore looked quite taken aback.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Her voice was a grating, simpering noise. “For those kind words of welcome.”

Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged a wary look.

“What’s she doing?” Harry hissed.

“Nothing good,” Ron muttered back. Hermione turned her gaze away from Umbridge to give them a reproachful stare.

Harry stared back at her, bewildered.

“...The treasure trove of magical knowledge, amassed by our ancestors must be guarded…”

Harry found his attention wandering, and saw some students had turned their back on Umbridge completely and were whispering and chatting quietly to themselves. Yet the teachers - and Hermione - seemed to be listening attentively, although by the expression on their faces they didn't quite agree.

“...practices that ought to be prohibited.” She simpered to a close. Harry wouldn't have even realized that she had come to the end of her speech had Dumbledore not stood and start clapping. The teacher seemed to follow his example, albeit reluctantly, and the students who had tuned out her speech as Harry had, responded sluggishly.

“Thank you for that enlightening speech! Now, Quidditch-”

“Yes, it was, “ Hermione muttered, glaring up at the table.

“Was it? I didn't understand a word,” Ron exchanged a bewildered glance with Harry.

“Well yes - it means that the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts.”

There was a great clattering around the hall, Dumbledore had obviously finished his speech and dismissed them.

“Oh! We have to show the first years up,” Hermione stood out from the bench, giving Ron a contemptuous look when he called out to them as “midgets!”.

“Well, I'd better go find McGonagall then, hadn't I?” Harry searched around for her as discretely as he could, breaking away from the large crowd of students now pouring out from the main hall.

“Mr. Potter,” called Professor McGonagall from a few places behind him. “Follow me, Mr. Potter - I am sure Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger passed on my message?”

“Yes - uh, yes,” Harry picked up his pace to match her swift one. They heading up the Great hall in the opposite direction the students were going into the side room Harry had only entered once before when his name had been called out the previous year from the Goblet of fire.

“Professor, what's this about?” He asked when they entered the room. McGonagall spared him a glance and then went about closing the door, and muttering some incantations.

“Privacy charms,” she explained at his questioning look. “Take a seat.”

Harry sat.

McGonagall took the seat across from him and started preparing a cup of tea. Harry was sure she could've used magic, but she seemed to take great care in setting it all up.

“Sugar?”

“Wha-? Yes, please.”

The metal spoon clinked briefly, before being put aside systematically. A splash of milk was soon added.

“Take a biscuit, Potter.”

Harry, bewildered, took one.

It was nice, a custard cream.

Why was he here? Eating biscuits with Professor McGonagall on the first night of term?

It wasn't until he took his first sip that McGonagall started speaking as if she had been waiting for his mouth to be preoccupied.

“I'm sure you noticed that our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor is part of the Ministry,” she barely paused for his confirming nod. “The Ministry is doing everything in their power to discredit both you and the Headmaster.”

“Well, yes. I've seen the newspapers,” Harry managed, swallowing his bite of custard cream.

“With the active campaign by the Ministry, the Board of Governors gained enough support to call an emergency meeting, ”McGonagall's knuckles whitened on her own teaspoon “They pushed through a - a suggestion.”

She grimaced.

“professor?”

“Potter, they want to move you into the supervision of another house less influenced by Dumbledore.”

Harry's stomach dropped

“Of course it shall not be permanent,” McGonagall said, her lips thinned. “Within the year, you shall be returned back to Gryffindor. But, Potter - this is an opportunity for the Order if you are up for it.”

She looked reluctant to say so.

Harry's head was spinning.

“Professor Dumbledore believes that many students within Slytherin would remain neutral if given the chance.” She continued. “He would like you to present that option to them, and at the very least collect information of death eater activity.”

“What - spy on Slytherin?” His tea felt cold in his hands. “Leave Gryffindor?”

“You are a Gryffindor wherever you may sleep, Mr. Potter.” There was a warm fierceness in her eyes. “And we would not condone this if there were a better option. But, as it stands, your placement in Slytherin may save lives. You will meet with me every Friday afternoon under the guise of Transfiguration Tutoring.”

“But -” Harry had a horrifying thought. “What about Quidditch? Can I still play for Gryffindor?”

Harry could tell how much McGonagall wanted to say yes. The negative response seemed like poison in her mouth. Harry felt as if in the last half hour, his entire world had been ripped to shreds.

“Can I tell Ron and Hermione?”

“I will send them a message to not concern themselves. You may speak with them in the morning, however, your time in Slytherin starts tonight.”

She stood then, vanishing the tea and the small crumbs.

Harry followed her out the door and down a moving staircase. It seemed to obey McGonagall without question, moving to join with another staircase that lead straight into the dungeons.

“The Slytherin common room is in the dungeons,” McGonagall said as they walked down the corridors. Harry glanced away, finding the floor to be particularly interesting. Students weren't meant to know the entrance to the other houses common rooms, but Harry and Ron had snuck into Slytherin in their second year.

“The password is, 'Callidus’ - it changes every fortnight, so check the noticeboard. Try not to pick any fights, Mr. Potter.”

Harry could have sworn a flicker of a smile passed McGonagall's lips.

They stopped ahead of the blank stone wall.

McGonagall gave him a nod.

“Good luck. Callidus.”

The stone wall opened, the stones reassembling to form a low archway.

Harry walked in.

The Slytherin common room was as gloomy as Harry remembered it to be, if not more. The darkness of the night against the dark glow of green lanterns cast sweeping shadows across the floor. Thankfully, the layout to the dorms seemed to mimic that of Gryffindor.

The dorms were the same size as well, with the inky real difference the lack of window and the heavy green curtains around the four-poster beds, rather than the normal Gryffindor maroon. The rest of the Slytherin boys - Merlin, he'd have to share with Malfoy - had already gone to bed and the empty one closest to the door had his trunk on it. Harry didn't bother with anything fancy, just closed his curtains and cast several impervious charms on them. He wouldn't trust the Slytherins with his eyes open, nevermind closed.

It was a long while before he was able to fall asleep. When he did, it was short-lived - flashes of green light and high, cold voice - “Bow to death, Harry-”

He was awake with the sun, dressed and out of bed before his roommates had even opened an eye. Some older years sat in the common room, but bleary-eyed said nothing as he slipped out and made his way with his Firebolt to the Quidditch Pitch. Perhaps a bit of flying would clear his mind.

He soared in the clouds long after the sun had risen and the inhabitants of the castle started trickling out.

 


	2. First Encounters

"Harry!" And there's brown curly hair in his nose, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"Wha- Hermione, lemme breath-"

"Harry we were so worried - you didn't show up at all in the common room and Ron had to cover for you, and then this morning he said you hadn't come back at all and oh Harry, Professor McGonagall came and told us and I for one think that it's a good idea-"

"Breathe, Hermione," Ron grinned slightly, but his bunch eyebrows betrayed his worry.

They were sitting in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table. Harry was sure Professor McGonagall had noticed, but she hadn't glanced at him once all morning. Breakfast had started about half an hour and the hall was steadily filling up.

Harry glanced around the hall and tucked his head closer to Ron and Hermione's.

"Slytherin. It's absolutely mental, " Ron shook his head. "Why would they listen to you - uh, no offence Harry."

Ron's ears turned pink at Hermione reproachful stare.

"Well, I dunno' but I spose' I have to try, don't I?" Harry said. He didn't know what Dumbledore was thinking. He was hated by the press and all of the Slytherin's last year had worn the "potter sucks" badge. Malfoy was in Slytherin.

"I think it's a great idea," said Hermione fiercely. "Professor Lupin was telling me about how in the last war, Slytherin was targeted for recruitment. And if even one Slytherin doesn't join You-Know-Who because of you, then I think it's worth it. "

Harry focused intently on the crack in the dining hall table.

"Have you talked to any of them yet?" asked Ron, then with a disgusted grimace, "You have to share a dorm with Malfoy."

"Well no, I haven't really had the chance yet," Harry said defensively. So he may have gotten up early to avoid that.

"Mr Potter, " called Professor McGonagall. She had a stack of papers in her hand. "Although your head of house has changed -" she gave him a pointed look, "I have your timetable with me and so shall save Professor Snape the trouble."

"Miss Granger, Weasley."

Hermione eagerly accepted her own timetable, which while full was considerably less so than 3rd year. Ron and Harry took theirs with some reluctance.

"Potter, I don't need to remind you of your new house?"

"No, Professor," Harry responded glumly, gathering his bag.

"We'll see you soon, Harry," said Hermione quickly.

"Yeah - look we've got double potions after history, and you know they always put Slytherin and Gryffindor together," Ron added.

"Yeah," he muttered, feeling a bit dramatic. With a lingering glance at the Gryffindor table, he walked his way across the hall to Slytherin's. The table itself wasn't too far away from Gryffindor, but the distance felt like a mile. Students stopped and gaped at him from all houses as he went to the end of the table closest to the entrance of the Great Hall and sat with a heavy sigh.

Yes.

He was being dramatic.

But hadn't he gone through enough? Hadn't he spent the summer alone with no information, no friends, no Sirius? Why did the Ministry and Dumbledore have to make his life at Hogwarts just as isolating?

The hall was filling up quicker and quicker. He refused to glance down the table where the Slytherin's his year were sitting. He could tell Malfoy and his cronies weren't there yet from the sheer lack of taunting.

He fiddled with his plate, grabbing a knife. He couldn't stand the thought of eating, but Ron and Hermione's burning gaze on his back encouraged him to spread some jam on toast.

As he meticulously spread the jam on the toast (for something to do with his hands mostly), he felt a new resolve hold him.

He could survive this.

After all, hadn't he survived the Dursleys? He was used to being unwanted and the novelty had been friends, not the lack thereof.

He could blend in, observe from the background and speak up when necessary - he wanted to show them that they could stand up. Their only option wasn't Voldemort - and maybe wasn't Dumbledore either.

"Potter?" Asked a voice. Harry jerked slightly, turning to his right. It was Theodore Nott.

_"Avery. Nott. "_ He remembered the high pitched voice saying. His father had been at the graveyard had watched him get tortured, laughed at his pain -

"So you're our mysterious new dorm mate." He looked at Harry consideringly. Harry fought to keep his face impassive. As far as he could remember, Nott hadn't done anything to him personally. He never spoke up and was always along the edges of Malfoy's gang.

But his father had been behind one of the masks.

Nott seemed to catch his whitened knuckles and smirked slightly as if confirming something to himself. As if Harry had proven some sort of bias already as if he would not look twice at Nott and Harry out of instinct more than anything blurted out,

"Not particularly mysterious - I'm sure you heard me come in last night."

Nott turned back.

"Not as unobservant as you look, then." He said. "No, Malfoy told us all on the train."

Harry startled slightly.

Malfoy had known before he did?

Between his possible dig at Sirius' identity and his knowledge about Harry's transfer...

"And?"

Nott raised an eyebrow.

"And what?"

"And what do you think about it?"

Nott looked ready to roll his eyes. Harry was sure he came off as subtle as a hammer, but he wanted to know. What did his now dorm mates think of the transfer?

"We placed bets on how long you'd last," Nott said. Harry didn't know if he was serious or not. "And Malfoy seemed pleased."

Harry's neck twisted so sharply, he thought he heard a crack. If he hadn't just finished his bite of toast, he might've choked on it. Malfoy? Pleased?

Nott's smirk widened.

"Theo!" Called a high pitched, nasal voice. Pansy Parkinson, in tow with Milicent Bulstrode. "What are you doing?"

"Just welcoming the newest snake into the house," Nott called back, pleasantly. Apparently guessing Nott wasn't about to shift from his seat next toHarry, Parkinson heaved a long, exasperated sigh, not unlike Hermione's, and sat down on the other side of the table.

Harry did his best not to gawk openly at the Slytherins.

He avoided eye contact with Bulstrode, his lips twitching despite himself at the memory of the cat hair polyjuice incident.

The table was silent for a few moments, the two girls and Nott appearing to have silent conversations with their eyes.

"Harry Potter!" Called an angry, female voice from the Gryffindor table. Cursing under his breath, he watched Angelina Johnson, who had taken over the post of Quidditch Captain since Oliver Wood had left, approach the Slytherin table. Her face was a blotchy red and Harry grimaced. It seemed she had been told about the transfer and his removal from the Quidditch team.

"Angelina..."

"One year. " She said fiercely. "I get one year as Captain, and you've gone and left the team!"

"It's not as if I asked for it!" He snapped.

"Of course not!" She snapped right back. "I'm not angry at you, you pillock, I'm angry for you!"

Harry, who had been prepared to defend himself stopped abruptly.

"- what?"

" The ministry has no right! None!" She ranted. "I've talked to McGonagall she said she can't do anything, but me and the team," here she gestured behind her to where he noticed was the rest of the team hanging back a little. Fred and George winked at him, Alicia and Katie gave a fierce look. "We're going straight to the Board of Governors - you'll be a Slytherin in every way but in Quidditch."

Harry grinned at her, a little dumbfounded.

"Don't worry, Harry," piped up Fred, seeming to read Harry's surprised look as what it was. "Heir of Slytherin or not, you'll always be ickle Harrikins to us."

A snort from beside him made him remember where he was.

Nott was smirking slightly.

"Potter, I think your own friends insult you more than Slytherin does."

Angelina turned her glare on him, and to Nott met it unfazed.

"You did call him a pillock." He reminded her.

"Miss Johnson, " the low threatening voice of Snape joined them. "Mr Weasleys'." He sneered. "Kindly return to your house."

With a final fierce glare at Harry and an encouraging pat on the back from Alicia, they turned to walk away. George slipped something in his hand before he joined the others, whispering "just a bit of insurance," out of the corner of his mouth. Under Snape and the other Slytherin's watchful gaze, Harry slipped it up his sleeve under the guise of an itch on his wrist.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," added Snape, "for cursing."

Harry rolled his eyes. Snape caught it, and opened his mouth and then seemed to remember Harry was in Slytherin now. It wouldn't be as satisfying to take points. He snapped it shut and resolutely ignored his existence, handing out timetables.

"So," smirked Parkinson. "Ickle Harrikins,"

Harry felt his ears burn.

"Oh, knock it off Pansy," Nott replied, "doesn't your mum call you her flower?"

Parkinson sniffed and turned to Bulstrode.

Harry went back to his plate.

He could feel Nott's gaze burning onto the side of his head.

"So," drawled Nott. "Potter. How do you feel about it?"

"What?"

Nott gazed at him coolly.

"Joining us snakes."

Harry's throat closed up. What was he meant to say? That he was fine with it? That obviously wasn't true, he'd much rather be in Gryffindor tower. But...

"I don't mind too much," Harry said. "I mean, yeah it's a bit different,"

Bulstrode snorted.

"A bit?" She asked sceptically. It might have been the first time she'd addressed him all.morning.

"More than a bit," Harry amended. "But it's not like I've got much of a choice have I? Might as well make the most of it."

There was a lot Harry didn't say. Harry didn't say that he was terrified, that he would put silencing charms and shield charms all around his bed every night. Harry didn't say that his dreams had been plagued by the graveyard and the knowledge that the children of Voldemorts followers nearby as he slept had him tossing and turning all night. He didn't mention that the thought of Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor tower made a tight ball of jealousy curl in his stomach.

He was there for a reason, and he had to try and show them that they had options. And he couldn't do that if they thought he hated them.

Nott's eyes were cold and sharp, unreadable.

Harry felt his ears burn at their stares. He looked away, out into the crowds of students around them. The hall had filled up now, and the glances his way were nothing if not conspicuous. And then his eyes caught hold of blonde hair, a pointed face. Malfoy.

"Right," Harry said. "See you in History,"

He gathered his bag, stuffing his timetable into the side pocket and made his way out the hall. He felt Notts stare again at the back of his head and just about caught Malfoy's incredulous, "Was that Potter?" before he ducked out of the hall.

_________

  
He'd wandered Hogwarts aimlessly, walking without any particular destination in mind. Eventually, he'd realised he was at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Owlery and had the flash of inspiration to write to Sirius - only to hesitate. Did he already know? Had he known all along? No, Sirius wouldn't hide something so large from him, not when he himself knew what it was like to be trapped.

With new resolve, Harry dug out a stained bit of parchment and started to write.


End file.
